


The Calling

by shaded_blue_fangs



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arthur Matt and Francis show up later I swear, Culture exchange, Friendship, Human AU, Might continue this might not, and other magic folk, blatant use of I See Fire, but i dont want to limit it, could be slash, fae, idk where this is going if its going anywhere at all, period attire, period au, supernatural things are afoot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaded_blue_fangs/pseuds/shaded_blue_fangs
Summary: Ivan was walking home from work when he heard a song.Everyone said The Wood was too be feared, avoided. They said it was rife with magic and dangerous things that would trick and use and hurt humans. Ivan didn't believe such fanciful rumors.Even when he encountered the ethereal man among the trees, he still wasn't sure if he believed it.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Calling

He was on his way home, sun masked behind a veil of clouds. It was an early spring day, just warm enough for one coat and his usual scarf. He could almost see his breath when he exhaled. It had been another rather busy day. Ivan worked as a shop assistant at the local general store. His worn brown shoes cracked over the soft thawing ground. He stooped down a bit to itch at the cloth garters under his knees. He adjusted his paperboy cap as he looked up at the sky, seeing it was slightly darker than when he’d left the center of town.

Ivan’s mind was a tad numb with exhaustion. The wind tossed his overcoat open a bit and his scarf swayed over his shoulder. It had been a busy day, like most. Bustling around the young owner of the store, Yao Wang, the pair of them in their white button down shirts, sleeve garters and vests, bouncing between the counter and seemingly endless line of customers and the various shelves and drawers of drugs and supplies behind it. The metallic  _ ca-shing  _ of the register still rang shrill in his ears. Ivan sighed, running a dry hand over his face as another twig broke underfoot.

It was the hours before twilight. The shop closed at sundown but Yao knew Ivan had a long walk through the Trelock Wood to get home, so he frequently let him go while there was still daylight.

The town had superstitions about The Wood: stories of fairies flitting like fireflies, nymphs lingering just beyond the light, the cries of Reems echoing horribly through the trees. All these tempting magics to lure travelers off the path and into the Wood where they were never seen again. Parents warned their children to avoid strange things in the Wood, strange like a single bright flower among the locks, strange like glimmers of a lake just beyond sight. Do not follow strange werelights, which heralded Wisps. Should a bird or beast cross your path, do not look back until through to the other side, else bear inauspicious tidings. And especially be wary of fog, for it meant elves were close by. The townspeople had a healthy fear of what they did not understand, and so feared most of the Wood.

Ivan had no such superstitions. He rather enjoyed the peace of the Wood. It didn’t feel oppressing or scary to walk the tunneling path underneath oak and maple. The dirt road shot straight as an arrow through and was only just wide enough to allow a carriage passage.

Ivan and his sisters had come to this town some two years ago. It’s been barely enough time to learn the language and acclimate themselves. They had been well accepted, save when it came to the Wood. People would sometimes express concern that they should live so deep in the Woods. Yekaterina’s students would ask if she’d seen anything strange on her way to the schoolhouse that day. Natalia’s classmates would invite her to their house for the night to avoid the walk home, or try to scare her with rumors of the Woods.

But the three of them didn’t mind. They don’t scare easy, and they didn’t believe any of it--not really. They favored the peace, calm, and safe atmosphere of their cabin in the Woods.

Peace, calm and safety were something they desperately needed after so many years of  _ running _ .

So Ivan breathed in the clean and natural air of the Woods and sighed, trying to wish his exhaustion away, thinking of Yekaterina’s warm pot of borscht likely being warmed that second. His eyes raked over his surroundings. The muted brown leaves covered the floor and hung from the canopy, the grey tone bark of trunks barely visible in the fog. It was comfortably cold. The colors swayed, flat in the overcast.

It was in this muted twilight that Ivan heard it. A voice.

He paused in his uphill ascent of the path. He stopped and listened.

“ _ Oh, misty eye of the mountain below…” _

The voice was alone and soft. It carried. It seemed to ring, bringing the world into sharpness.

_ “Keep careful watch of my brothers’ souls. _

_ And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke, _

_ Keep watching over Durin’s sons.” _

A soft humming took over, and Ivan was awash in melancholy and nostalgia. 

_ “If this is to end in fire _

_ Then we shall all burn together. _

_ Watch the flames climb higher into the night _

_ Calling out father oh, stand by and we will _

_ Watch the flames burn on and on the mountainside…” _

Ivan was spellbound. The masculine voice swung up and down to shake the very marrow in his bones. Such emotion behind the words. He couldn’t resist his curiosity and took a step to the right, then another off the path, then another and then Ivan was moving fast through the trees, almost running. He couldn’t describe it; there was a desperation in his heart to see the thing, the creature producing this somber sound.

“ _ Now I see fire, inside the mountain…. _

_...burning in the trees _

_ And I see fire, hollowing souls” _

He moved through the fog, panting from exertion of the climb, as the voice grew louder. As he drew closer.

“ _ …..blood in the breeze _

_ And I hope that you’ll remember me…” _

Ivan came upon him as the last note rang in the air.

It was a youth, a young man. He was standing in a clearing, hands busy roaming over a bush, plucking berries. His back was to Ivan.

He was humming bars of the song still, loudly. Ivan stepped forward, rustling branches and twigs on the ground. The humming stopped.

The youth straightened and turned to see--

And Ivan was instantly ensnared.

This youth was  _ stunning _ . Smooth and even skin the color of sand. Lean and limber, made to move and lift and dance and swing and run forever. He wore a plain pair of brown trousers and a loose white shirt, sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He wore no shoes. Ivan knew he was staring, eyes taking in the way the man’s calves curved and the pants drew tight over his thighs and how the shirt’s wide collar exposed a hint of shoulder and chest muscle and tantalizing collar bone. But as beautiful as this young man--

_ No, not a  _ man.

There was an  _ aura _ about him, his blonde hair shining without any sunlight, his skin glowing faintly as the day grew darker. This was--the being before him was not something completely human. You could see it in the graceful sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline; the straightness of his nose. Ivan knew he was staring but couldn’t stop, couldn’t feel ashamed.

When his eyes finally met the youth’s again, he was shocked afresh. Ivan hadn’t been  _ breathing _ and as soon as his eyes met those cool and all-encompassing blue eyes, air surged into his lungs.

The youth didn’t seem surprised, not even startled. His refined features somehow bore both a kind of delicate vulnerability and a terrible strength. It wasn’t human. He’d never seen something so...so  _ magnificent _ and his heart was pounding with stressed vigor.

Ivan felt he should say something, but he knew not what to say. He must’ve surprised him, even if he didn’t show it. He didn’t want to scare him off. So he kept staring. They were only some ten feet apart, and Ivan could see into those blue eyes and see...such depths. They were an iridescent cornflower blue. Abruptly, Ivan realized the other’s eyes were huge, a bit too large to be human. It only emphasized the fact that the other was  _ not _ one of his kind.

“That was beautiful.” Ivan decided a compliment was a safe place to start.

The youth moved and turned to face him completely. It was then that Ivan noticed he was holding a small basket at his hip. He could see berries and nuts and leaves and things in it.

Then the youth smiled. “Thank you.”

Ivan’s heart clenched at the way his face lit up. Before he could think, he heard himself saying lowly, almost in awe, “Who are you?”

The man’s smile turned mischievous. “I’m Alfred. But you can call me whatever you want, Big Guy.” There was no mistaking that playful wink.

Ivan flushed and stammered again, “B-but  _ what _ are you?” because it was obvious to him (even if he didn’t  _ believe  _ in things supernatural) that this youth was a supernatural.

“I believe your people would call me a Wisp.”

Ivan nodded, a bit dazed. “What were you singing?”

“A song of my kind from old. It was something sung before battle.” The youth moved the basket to his front, suspending it against his pelvis as both arms draped over the top.

“It sounded sad….”

Alfred shrugged. “It is. But I like it.”

Ivan chewed his lip, afraid to be pushing his luck, before, “Why are you out here?”

“I am collecting materials for ----.” Alfred’s mouth made a strange word.

“Throad?”

“No,  _ Rhodd _ .” he said it again slowly, accentuating the consonants. The first was the weird one; somewhere between a ‘th’ and an ‘r’. The ending ‘d’ was a soft sound, like an apple falling from a tree. Alfred continued. “Er, magic?”

“You can use  _ magic _ ?”

Alfred raised his eyebrows, surprise showing on his face for the first time. “You can’t?”

Ivan’s jaw dropped for a split second before he remembered himself. He rushed to say, “No, humans can not use magic...I don’t even believe magic is real. I feel like this,  _ you _ , are of a dream.”

Alfred’s eyes sparkled as he laughed and the whole space felt brighter. “Haha, me too, Big Guy. Say, what’s your name? How did you get so close? Didn’t you see my lights?”

“Oh, I am Ivan Braginsky. And um, I heard your singing and was...drawn to it.”

Alfred nodded like that explained everything. “My bad, then. I didn’t realize I was so close to the path otherwise I wouldnt’ve have sung so.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I sing to pass the time, but I also practice ----” he said that word again “while doing it. Just now I had been singing to draw out the ‘ymrioadd’--umm, ‘essence of devotion? Fidelity?’ anyway I was trying to draw that out of the sap of this tree.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the tree just behind the bush. “Sometimes magic can affect you humans and make you, well, go wonky. Did you like, eat grass on your way over or anything?”

Ivan smiled a bit at his tone. “Nyet, I just found your music so powerful. So...you might call it...I was charmed to your side?” A bit of his own mirth tinging his voice.

Alfred threw back his head and laughed again, the abrupt loud sound kind of startling. “I suppose so, though that was not my intent. Although, that  _ was _ the best reaction to my  _ rhodd _ yet, so, props to you. And I can’t say I’m displeased.” Alfred wiggled his eyebrows before snickering again.

Chuckling slightly, and feeling slightly aflutter, Ivan found himself asking, “have you ever met a human before?”

Alfred leaned back on a hip, tapping his chin in thought. “Well, depends on your definition of ‘met’. I’ve certainly charmed my fair share, by accident or not, for better or worse. I’ve not had full conversations with them though.”

That just begs the question. “Oh? And what makes me so special?”

Alfred grinned cheekily. “I dunno. There’s just something about you, Big Guy.” Then he turned and began picking at the bark on the nearest tree. Ivan watched him in silence from his position many strides back. Alfred kept peeling back the bark and dropping the pieces in his basket. Eventually he exclaimed a little victorious ‘a-ha!’ before placing his hand next to the small hole he’d exposed of the tree’s inner layers.

If Ivan thought Alfred had been glowing before, it was nothing compared to this. Starting at the place where Alfred’s palm met the tree, his silhouette outline started to glow a light blue-green, getting very bright and rising off his skin like smoke, or maybe steam. It lasted a full thirty seconds before the light faded. A thick, mostly clear goop was easing out of the tree. Alfred grinned again in triumph before furrowing his brows.

“Uh, hey, Big Guy? Ivan?”

Ivan blinked his eyes and shook his head, only to find that he was pressed flush against Alfred’s back, arms wrapped around the blonde’s shoulders.

Making a rather unmasculine squeak, Ivan staggered a few steps back, drawing his body away though something cried in him not to. He shuffled back hurriedly until he could duck behind a tree. He wanted to fall into a hole in the ground and hide for several years. His face was beet red and he could feel its heat when he pressed his hands to his face. He leaned into the trunk of the tree to compose himself. 

After a moment he peaked around the tree. It was not a fat oak, but a wimpy young maple, not quite wide enough to hide him completely. He pulled his scarf up over his chin to hide some of his mouth, a nervous habit. He looked at the ground near Alfred’s feet and said in a composed voice, “I am terribly sorry. I do not know what came over me.”

Alfred snorted. “I did my spell again. That was probably it. I’ve gotta be honest though, I didn’t expect it to affect you that much. I didn’t even say anything-ah! The sap!” Alfred spun away, snapping his fingers. With a dull  _ poof _ , an uncorked bottle appeared by them in the air. Alfred snatched it and held it to the tree, using a small twig to coax the sap into the jar. Once finished, he snapped his fingers again to cork it and placed it in his basket. Then he placed his hand next to the tree’s wound and Ivan clutched the trunk of the maple he hid behind.

Once again Alfred glowed that smokey blue-green. Ivan gripped the tree tighter.

“You can open your eyes, Ivan.”

Ivan jumped in surprise and away from the voice, fearing he’d moved to cling to Alfred again.

Instead, as he opened his eyes, he found himself still next to his maple and Alfred on his right, smiling lightly.

“That spell was just for  _ dawyneud y brifo _ \--umm healing? I’m pretty sure you guys call it that. It shouldn’t have affected you at all since I was focusing on the tree and its needs and stuff.”

Ivan could only blink at him, owlishly.

“This is a dream.”

Alfred laughed again. Wind moved briskly through the trees, rustling the leaves on the ground and bare branches. Ivan ducked his head into his scarf, one hand going up to keep his hat on. Alfred abruptly stopped laughing. It made Ivan look down at him in surprise.

“What’s wro-”

“Shh.”

Ivan’s mouth snapped closed and he began to look around them in fear. Alfred was deadly serious, intently looking into the trees.

“Some of my kind are close. Looking for me. You should go…” Alfred bit his lip before giving a pinched smile. He added, “Wisps aren’t exactly supposed to hang around humans. Not allowed.  _ Gwaharddiad _ is one of the few rules Wisps have and I’ve just broken it.”

Ivan’s brow creased. “But you said you’ve interacted with humans before.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but afterwards, I would use a  _ sillafu o ddileu-- _ erm memory altering spell to erase and replace any memory of the interaction.”

Ivan’s eyebrow quirked. “So, you do with me?” He wasn’t exactly sure if it was a question or suggestion. He didn’t want Alfred in trouble but neither did he want to  _ forget _ meeting this wondrous creature.

Alfred was shaking his head. “No, I don’t want to erase your memories, Big Guy. In fact, for some reason I can’t comprehend, I wanna see  _ more _ of you. Well, we’ve been raised to never ignore  _ Ymgyrch Hud _ , and I think this is one of those situations. So I’m going to let you go. Don’t tell too many people, ya hear? I know the townsfolk talk of us, but don’t go adding to their collection. If you do…” Alfred’s eyes flashed that ominous and bright blue-green.

Ivan backed into the tree. He raised his hands in surrender. “Da, yes, I-I understand. I wasn’t planning to anyway. I will not test your loyalty to your kind. Please no with the threats. Why do you want to keep meeting with me, though? I do not understand.”

“Neither do I, Big Guy. Not really anyway. I gotta ask the E--em, err. Gotta do some research. I mean, you wanna know about me, right? Learn about some supernatural stuff?” Alfred wiggled his fingers at Ivan. Ivan rolled his eyes good naturedly, smiling fondly.

“Yes, I would.” He nodded.

Alfred nodded before sticking a hand out. “Friends then.”

“...Friends.”

The instant their hands met, Ivan felt an acute burning on the inside of his wrist. He made a small, startled noise and when they parted, he pulled the sleeve back so they could both see the colored design coloring the soft skin on the underside of his arm.

It was no bigger than a sixpence and the ink was dark. It had four petal shapes in a quaternary fashion. In the center circle three thin short lines--dashes really--seemed to line his veins. It was very quite pretty. But Ivan was confused and slightly concerned. He looked at Alfred, expecting some explanation and about to demand one when Alfred shrugged.

“Not totally sure what  _ that  _ particular sigil means, but this way I can find you, communicate, sort of. So we can meet again without you getting lost in the Wood.” 

Ivan wrapped his other hand around the sigil and nodded uncertainly.

“Now you should  _ really  _ get going.”

Ivan nodded again and turned, intending to walk off. He hesitated, though, forgetting which way he came from. Alfred puffed behind him and he felt hands on his back, pushing him forward.

“That way, straight as an arrow. You’ll get back to the path in fifty or so strides.”

Ivan looked over his shoulder to--what? To thank him? Say goodbye? Get one last look in case this really was all a messed up dream?--but Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Even the basket was gone.

Ivan faced forward and started his way back to the path.

Later that night, when he finally got home, he’d barely opened the door when Yekaterina crashed into his arms, Natalia not far behind.

“Brother, where  _ were  _ you? You’re so late! Are you okay?” They used their native tongue at home.

Ivan gently set them both back before turning to remove his coat and hang it next to the door.

“I am fine. I just...lost my way in the woods and had trouble finding the path again.”

Yekaterina gasped. “No! Were you attacked? Oh, brother! I was about to send a search party!”

Ivan shook his head. “No, ah, my cap blew off and I had to chase like a madman to get it back.” He clutched the said article in his hands before moving to hang it as well.

Both girls blinked in surprise and then sighed with relief. With a happy laugh, Yekaterina reached up to pinch Ivan’s cheek, saying “Oh, Vanya.” She then left to heat up some of the left over dinner. Natalia leveled him with a skeptical look. Ivan opened his arms for her and she didn’t hesitate to dive in and squeeze him tight enough it was hard to breath.

He murmured into her hair. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m home now. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I will never leave you or Katyusha.”

He held his sister as she nodded mutely until she pulled away, dry-faced, and retreated to the kitchen. He winced. They always had waited to eat together. He’d made them wait a long time, hadn’t he.

But he would always return home. And they knew that.

The sigil on the inside of his wrist tingled slightly. Like a heartbeat, like a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> I used Welsh (via google translate ('-_-) ) for the Wisp's magic. I try to make it so you don't need to know the exact translation to understand, but I'm a sucker for language use, so I figure I'll put it here for later reference.  
> Correct me if I'm wrong.  
> I'm not a linguist, but maybe later I'll put in the IPA for pronunciation:  
> Rhodd - Gift  
> Ymrioadd - Devotion  
> Dawyneud y brifo - undo the hurt  
> Gwaharddiad - Prohibition  
> sillafu o ddileu - (lit) Spell of erasing  
> Ymgyrch Hud - Instinct of Magic


End file.
